


Stolen Kisses

by PinstripesAndConverse



Category: City of Love: Paris, Ubisoft City of Love: Paris
Genre: F/M, Involves making out with current LI in front of old LI, Old Love Interest is Bitter and Angry, S2E8 AU basically, heavy speculation on the plot of the rest of season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinstripesAndConverse/pseuds/PinstripesAndConverse
Summary: The main character gets pulled away from her party by an unexpected visitor with some ideas about Kat’s killer and the plot to destroy Paris, and perhaps other intentions.  Picks up threads from Silentium Amoris.  Vincent Karm x MC, MC is nameless.  Spoilers for S2E8; heavy on plot speculation for the rest of Season 2.





	Stolen Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted at Tumblr under boughtmywayintopopculture and on Wattpad under SweetVenomKiss
> 
> Has been heavily edited (the second half of the story has been drastically changed) and contains what probably qualifies as “Raphael-critical” content as well as content related to Vincent's side story.

She ran after Henri, infuriated by Raphael's assumption that she truly owed him after their breakup, agreement or not.  Leave it to Raphael to be pissy and jealous because another man was talking to her.  Henri might have answers, more information than she already had, which was the whole reason she threw the party in the first place under the guise of another memorial.  Kat deserved peace.  And she would make sure it happened.

  
She caught up with him, apologizing for Raphael, and for the entire scene.  She knew he shouldn’t have told her; they could kill him if anyone else found out.  Henri dived right into the purpose of the Knights, explaining to her that his campaign wasn't just his plan, but a plan for the Knights of Lutetia as well.  They might not be her enemy, but they were involved in Kat's death, if only inadvertently.  Henri's frankness was a refreshing difference from the recent web of deceit and emotion she was finding herself in, between TJ suddenly proclaiming they had the same life goals, Raphael's bitterness, and Louise's lamenting.    
  
Everyone was out for themselves, it seemed.  She shouldn't have been surprised.  Alcohol was involved and emotions were running high for everyone.  Perhaps the beer pong was a bad idea.  
  
Hugo's call brought her back to earth and she walked back with Henri in silence, knowing it wasn't marred with negative feelings.  
  
But as she saw Marion again, she wondered...was it coincidence that it was her who had found Henri's coin?  Or had Vincent known all along and sent Marion to make sure he would be revealed?    
  
She had moved the coffee machine over near the reception area, which was only lit by the city lights through the skylights.  Coffee.  Yes.  She needed to think, her mind was foggy from the vodka.  She elaned against the wall, near the entrance to the office area, and watched everyone enjoy themselves, thinking as she sipped, enjoying the warm drink.  
  
Her night goal was to Raphael again as much as possible, who seemed to having more than enough fun dancing with anyone close to him.  At least he was distracted.  
  
"I must say, I’m quite impressed this party idea worked."    
  
She'd know that voice anywhere.  What was Vincent even doing outside of his lair?  He broke out of jail to supposedly help her, and here he was, one room away from the cop who could throw him back in.  She felt her lips tingle at the thought of their first meeting after he had escaped the other night.  The tension with Marion hovering nearby the following morning had been unbearable, and she hoped the other woman hadn’t heard him say “ma chèrie”.  
  
"If Hugo sees you..." she hissed.  
  
"The cop is the least of my worries, all things considered."  How she had missed his confidence, his true self spreading its wings again in certainty.  "I come bearing a warning.”

 _He wouldn’t deliver the message himself if it wasn’t important,_ she thought, her eyes falling to Marion.   _Or if he couldn’t trust the one person who helped him._

“You didn’t have to break out of jail to be helpful, you know.”

“Oh, but I did.  You can't imagine how difficult it is to be threatening when most of Paris knows I'm in prison.”  

“I hardly find you threatening.  And you're right behind me.”  She took another sip, eyeing Sarah as she grabbed TJ and spun him, narrowing missing the desktop moved for the occasion.  

“You're  _you,_ (f/n).”  

He almost sounded impressed.  She knew he wouldn’t put himself here if he didn’t have something important to tell her that he couldn’t trust to anyone else.

She glanced at everyone again, finding them all occupied.  She put her mug down and slipped out of the office by sliding around the corner, only to find herself face to chest with Vincent.  He caught her before they both lost their balance, her eyes wide in embarrassment at trying to be smooth and failing.

“Eager for advice, are we?”  He whispered, his breath tickling her ear as he bent down to speak.  He had eased his hold on her once he knew she would stay standing, but had yet to let go of her entirely, one hand idly playing with a lock of her long hair.

“We can’t stay here,” she murmured, almost immediately missing how his arms felt around her when he let her go.  She took his hand in hers and began to walk down a nearby corridor, and towards a stairwell.  “Follow me.”

* * *

She led him to the rooftop terrace, an area she had never gotten to actually appreciate during her time at City of Love.  Louise designed everything about the office, and she outdid herself out here, with plenty of seating, a canopy over each area, and even a small fireplace.  Tall planters separated the sitting spaces, with lush plants adding more privacy, their leaves dotted with soft lights. 

“We should be fine up here, I don’t think anyone’s sober enough to take that many stairs,” she said, finding a seat on one of the couches, with a clear view of the only door to the stairs.  After standing and dancing for so long in heels, it felt good to sit down.

She watched Vincent stand proudly at the terrace railing and gaze out at the city, the one he had once called his backyard.  It was strange; two-plus years ago, she would have seen such an action as trying to impress or frighten her, the soft lighting creating the perfect shadows for his dramatics.  A lord looking over his lands.  But now...it was as if he was taking it all in to remember it, as if it would never be the same again.

The Knights’ plan was to give Paris back to the people.  But the plagues harmed everyone, a biblical threat often only left a few alive.  

 _If you have to say you’re not my enemy, you’re my enemy.  I see you, Henri de Valois._ She thought, her eyes caught on the way the light reflected on Vincent’s hair, a dark brown that, in the right light, sometimes had almost a red tinge to it.  She wondered if his hair felt as soft as it looked.

“How long have you been lurking around?”  She asked, casting her eyes elsewhere to look at the buildings to his right.

“Long enough to have heard Raphael’s snapping.  He’s quite hypocritical, selfishly putting you in such a position.  For all of my dealings, I’ve never had to coerce people into having dinner with me.”

“For all your dealings, you never tried to stifle me.”  She retorted instinctively, bitterness sinking into her voice.

He chuckled, a sound she had missed during her travels, one that grounded her and reminded her that not all had changed.  “Nor will I ever try.  You, without your straightforward passion, hunger for truth, willingness to speak your mind?  I can’t begin to imagine it.”

“What did you come to warn me about?”  She asked, drawing her eyes back to him as his body turned towards her, his eyes still caught on the lights in front of him for a moment before he turned his full attention to her.  

“Marion,” was all he said as he straightened his tie before walking towards her and taking a seat in the chair across from her.  

“What about her?”

“Don’t you find it strange that she didn’t show up until after Katherine died?  Until after Henri was blackmailed?  Suddenly knowing everyone’s business but giving you no answers?”

“Playing me, you mean?  She learned a lot from her time with you.”

“Not enough to be on the top.  She’s still working for someone.  The same person who had Katherine killed.”

“Yet even you don’t know who that is.”

He steepeled his fingers, his green eyes bearing a seriousness she had seen only a handful of times.  “Not yet.  But your killer fears a witness; cats might not have the same noses that dogs do, but they’re good at reading personalities.”

Confusion crossed her features, an eyebrow arched in speculation before she rolled her eyes, muttering, “of course.  How could I have missed that?  My cat’s been lounging around the old apartment...but he’s quite tame.  Except to...Sarah…”

She shot up from her seat, frenetic energy waking her up and ridding the vodka-induced cloud from her mind.  She began pacing, her heels creating a beat to which her thoughts came to her.

“Alia fears Kat was the imposter in the Knights.  Sarah knew about the paintings and then hired Kat, despite her background not being in art or biblical studies, but in 14th century French history.  She disappears for weeks, talking to no one, but claiming she hates me; that’s not Kat and it’s not the Kat I met the night she died.  Such a personality change…”

Vincent’s head shot up as he realized something.  “Raphael.”

“What about him?”

“He’s acting quite similar.  Bitter towards you, angry.  If the essence of love exists, why not…”

“Its opposite?”  They locked eyes as she finished this thought, pausing in her tracks as she considered it.

“Precisely.   Your enemy knows your power is in your bonds.  Take those any, remove all support you have, and who stands against the threat to Paris?  One person.  And that’s hardly enough.”

“You’re not including yourself?  That’s a first.”

“They won’t expect me to help you, they think I’m too busy hiding from the police.”

“And who is they?”

“Exactly the one who claim they  _aren’t_ your enemy.”

“If you have to explain you aren’t the enemy, you’re the enemy.”  She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she paced past him, frustrated by her own stupidity.  She shouldn’t have had anything to drink, she was overridden by Raphael’s emotions when she had that conversation.  “Stupid Henri.  A Paris for the people.  Not just the Raphael’s and the Vincent’s, he said…”  She stopped walking again and gestured with her hand to signal she was backtracking.  “Raphael...acting the same way Kat was.  Which means he’s a Knight.”

“Or an initiate.  He was at the very least invited, he came to prison to show me the letter and the coin.  But he was certainly more level-headed then, and mentioned finding a connection between them and the paintings.”  Vincent looked away, a mask of boredom covering his features; she could have sworn he almost looked hurt for a moment.  “As much as I hate to give him credit, he wasn’t joining to one-up me, but to do the inside work.  He perhaps has gotten too close.”

 _To do the work I couldn’t and give me the information you would never get.  You know much, but even your connections have their limits_ , she thought.  

“Sarah and Raphael are working together.”  She started back across the terrace, tying her hair back as she went.  “Raphael knew about the essence.  So did TJ.  Marion.  Louise.  You-”  She looked at him with an exacerbated expression when he looked offended.  “You’re on the list of knowing about the essence,”  She continued her path, thinking aloud.  “You were in jail.  Louise hated Kat but she kind of hates everyone.  Marion’s...also been acting odd, when you consider how much she used to fawn over you.  TJ’s...much of the same, but not as moody.  Perhaps he’s also an insider; would explain how he knows Alia, regardless of Kat’s role in that.  But for my cat to act such a way with Sarah specifically, considering she hired Kat...it’s odd.”

She trailed off, her thoughts becoming a jumbled mess again, as if her cat had come along and tangled up a ball of yarn.  Every time she tried to make some sense of the past few weeks, something came along and snagged her thoughts and forced her to backtrack.  

She sighed heavily, leaning on the wooden planter separating where Vincent was sitting from the other terrace space.  She glanced at him, finding him deep in thought, staring at the couch in front of him.  It was quite different than the other night, where he was captivated by the opera, his peace coming from an enjoyment of art and beauty.  Here, his peace was from planning, from thinking.

 _This is the Vincent I missed most_ , she mused.   _The plotting, the acceptance of a challenge and how to get ahead of it._

And he would, she knew.  

Her thoughts wandered back to her earlier thread.  He came to warn her about Marion, her odd behavior, her timing.  Yesterday Marion was all smiles to her, but annoyed and even angered by Vincent’s treatment of her.  Such a switch from two years ago, and even during her brief exposure to the essence, fawning over Vincent’s plan like a lovesick zombie.

 _“He simply_ is  _Paris” to “If that man wasn’t so well connected, I’d—” is certainly not how Marion would talk about him to me in the same span of time two years ago.  It’s tamer, but I wonder..._

“Marion’s working for the Knights.”  He said, breaking the silence, rising from his chair to walk over to her.  “That’s why she helped me…I know too much.”  Vincent trailed off, brow furled in thought before he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in resignation.  “I trusted that wretched woman with my food, like Katherine did.  No wonder I said…”

“I  _did_ think yesterday was odd all around, to be fair,” she said, trying to save him some face about being too compliant, about using a pet name with her when they had only kissed.

 _Not to mention I also know way too much about a widow’s interests in bed_ , she thought, pushing the entire spat between Alia and TJ out of her mind.

“My own ambition used against me again, only this time because I’m stuck relying on someone else.

“You aren’t exactly in a position to do much else except trust her.”  She said softly.  “ _I_  can’t exactly bring you food, Hugo would figure it out quite quickly.”

“You say that as if I would ask you to do so.”

“I’m certainly waiting on an invitation to dinner.  Do you make a habit of kissing women and then never following up on your romantic gestures?”

He gave her a raised eyebrow, assessing her as a small smirk crossed his lips.  He stepped in front of her, leaving her more than enough space to move if she so wished.  Her heart was in her throat, beating with a rhythm she was almost certain was practically impossible as he looked at her before leaning down to whisper to her.

“I remember your response to my remark about Florence being ‘Would that be so bad?’  Am I correct?”  His breath tickled her neck as he spoke.  She suppressed a shiver, working to focus on slowing her heartbeat.  

Yet again, he was reminding her of things she thought he hadn’t heard.  She should know better by now to expect him to know everything, hear everything, even if he wasn’t next to her.  She felt her face go hot, slightly ashamed in how open she had been with her thoughts around him, but moreso that he had this effect on her.  

 _You are, and I still stand by that,_  she thought.

He stood straight at the sound of someone trying the door handle, finding it locked.  She was surprised she even heard it over her own heartbeat drumming in her ears but the fear of being found outweighed any effect Vincent had on her. 

“Why won’t this key…”  A voice from behind the door said.

_Raphael…I can’t let him see me like this.  With Vincent.  Anywhere near Vincent._

Her heart was overcome with panic, especially after her last encounter with Raphael.  He was already upset with her for earlier, for going back on her word, and she couldn’t bear the pain his words caused her.  They might no longer have been together but they were still friends…at least, she liked to think so.  

“Hide, quickly.”  He didn’t budge.  “Please, Vincent.  He can’t see you.”

She glanced up at him only to be met with a confident expression and a challenging raised eyebrow.  “I don’t hide, (f/n), not from Raphael Laurent.” He moved to her side, and she turned to face him, both of them within clear view of the entrance from the stairs. “I have a much better idea.”

He cupped her cheek and kissed her, softly at first, cautiously, much like their first kiss.  She heard the door finally open and footsteps on the wooden deck, and Vincent drew her closer to him, kissing her harder.  She felt lightheaded but didn’t want to stop, to pull away.  

“What…(f/n)?  What are you...”  

Vincent broke the kiss for her and she glanced between them, Raphael’s eyes as wide as saucers while Vincent was incredibly amused.  

“You…I…why is…”  Raphael gestured to Vincent before redirecting to her, “but you were…”

“Use your words, Raphael.” Vincent crooned.

She bit her lip as she watched Raphael’s stunned expression turn dark, anger twisting his expression.  “So you not only refuse to honor agreements, you fraternize with the enemy too.  Glad to see your travels have done a world of good for your morals.”  Raphael snapped.  “You’re clearly not distraught with grief enough to kiss the man who wanted to enslave all of Paris.

She looked down at her feet, Raphael’s blue eyes holding a fury she couldn’t bear.  “I can explain, Raphael, if you would only give me—”

“I did, (f/n).  I listened to you years ago, I gave you every opportunity to speak your mind.”

 _Only when it suited you_ , she thought bitterly.   _Only when you could twist it to fit your image of me_.  

“I’m just as guilty, Raphael. Of everything I accused you of. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?  I lent you my office so you could have a memorial for Kat with your friends, and this,” he waved a hand in Vincent’s direction, “is how you repay me?  Not with dinner but with kissing the man who threatened you multiple times?  I suppose Vincent Karm kissing you is his definition of helping your investigation?”

A knot formed in her stomach. She hadn’t expected anyone to ever find out she had kissed Vincent at all, at least…not until after everything was finished.  If anything came of this at all.  They had kissed twice, nothing more.  For Raphael to be the one to find them felt like a knife in the gut, and she could only imagine it must feel the same for him.  Whatever happened between her and Vincent in the past was nothing compared to the history between the two men, whatever personal business that was.  A small part of her wanted to shrink away, hide from the scrutinizing blue eyes that had once held so much love and adoration for her.  She ran her thumb along the inside of her left ring finger, where a ring once sat, the pad of her thumb finding bare skin instead.

“Have you nothing else to say, (f/n)?”

“Clearly, it was doing more than your selfish, entitled attitude was.”  Vincent interjected, directing a piercing glare at Raphael.  “Forcing her to go to dinner as a contractual condition is certainly not the way to win a woman back, Laurent.”

“I don’t need advice from you, Karm.”

“Are you sure?  Because that’s…two engagements, correct, that have failed?”

“I don’t recall ever seeing you engaged.”

“That’s because I don’t hand my heart out so easily.”

Silence grew between them, and she cast glances between Vincent and Raphael, unsure whether or not to speak.

“Must be awfully disappointing. Were you hoping that by involving yourself in Katherine’s murder that you might win her back?  Save her from her grief like a knight in shining armor?” Raphael scoffed and rolled his eyes at Vincent’s dramatics, but the dark haired main ignored him and continued.   “You, Raphael Laurent, are a fool blinded by your ideals.  You had what you always wanted but you still managed to ruin that because you refuse to let those around you flourish, refuse to let them have their own lives, afraid they’ll leave you behind.”  

Vincent stepped away from her, towards Raphael, never losing his composure.  “Blame everyone else for your misery.  Blame me.  Blame the universe.  But don’t blame her.”

She watched Raphael’s face turn red at Vincent’s words; they were true, she experienced it firsthand outside of the office.  Experienced it long before she found herself enamored and in a proper relationship with the history nerd.  Any encounter with TJ or Tristan or Leo resulted in his nasty attitude and possessiveness, even before she began dating him properly.  She found herself suddenly disgusted looking at her ex-fiance and turned away.

“She is the most honest person you have had the honor to meet, she’s clever, and kind.  I have never found someone so capable of facing the truths this world holds while never losing her love for it.  You know her pain, and yet you decide to rub salt in her wounds by making everything about yourself?”

The dark haired man looked back at her, and she saw a gentleness in his eyes she didn’t think was possible, not from him.  He turned back to Raphael.

“You were a better man once,” Vincent said, “Paul saw that.  And right now, he would be ashamed of you.”

“Don’t bring him into this.”

“Why not?  It’s not as if he has a voice anymore, thanks to you.”

When Raphael didn’t reply, she turned to find his jaw set, glaring daggers at them one final time before storming away, slamming the door behind him.  

She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding as Vincent turned his attention back to her, walking over to her and putting one arm around her waist.  His other hand lifted her chin, her eyes meeting his as they searched hers for an answer to an unspoken question.  She looked down at his lips and back into his peridot eyes, giving a small nod before he kissed her again, just as passionately as he did previously.  

They continued for a moment longer, Vincent brushing his lips against her forehead before stepping back from her.  She looked up at him, finding him extremely amused by what just transpired, his usual smirk replaced by an actual smile before he turned away from her and laughed.

A deep laughter, one she hadn’t heard from him before.  It was…genuine, happy.  She felt her face flush at the realization she was privy to such an intimate, rare moment. It was as if part of his mask fell away, revealing another side of him.

 _I don’t think I’ve ever seen him truly happy.  Amused, sure, but this…this is new_. She mused.   _Happiness fits him, almost as well as his three-piece suit does.  It’s a tad…cruel, but they have a history together._

Guilt knotted in her stomach, knowing he was laughing over Raphael.  Yet she also knew Vincent had been right; Raphael had tried to use her as a tool for his own unhappiness and both of them ended up unhappy in the end. Sometimes he needed to be reminded that it wasn’t only his happiness and his desires that mattered most.  

“I forgot how much he looks like a deer in headlights when he’s surprised.”  He looked down at her, her blush clearly amusing him further.  “It seems as if you enjoy it when I laugh.”

“Perhaps.  Should I feel honored to witness the great Vincent Karm genuinely laugh?”

“Only as honored as I am by seeing your smile.”

Vincent understood her, intrinsically, on a level Raphael never could.  She hungered for passion, for truth, for someone on her level, who challenged her to better herself and her work.  She could never be tied down and left to put others before herself just to make the other person secure, to be stifled to spare another’s feelings.  If anything, Vincent encouraged her passion, fostered it, and exposed the world for what it was; a world of lies and secrets, ready to be uncovered.  

Their first meeting had left her with a spark, one that haunted her even during her travels away from Paris and her visit home.  He was self-aware, self-assured, and good looking in a suit; certainly not the first of his kind she had ever met.  But he was different.  The passion she saw in him was only matched by his hunger for understanding, for the easing of pain only love was capable of bringing.

Kat’s murderer came first.

“I’m afraid we have other pressing matters to attend to, as satisfying as that was.”  He whispered into her hair.  “You have a cat to rescue, and I fear I’ve taken too much time from that endeavor.”

She reached up to kiss him briefly.  “My cat’s quite clever, he’ll elude any captors as long as he can.”

They made their way back downstairs, the empty hallways and darkened offices showing a side of City of Love she had only seen twice; the first night she stayed late when Vincent called her to meet him, and when she had snuck in to post her article.  

“They say pets are reflections of their owners…”  Vincent mused as they stalked the halls, only their fingertips touching, only this time she was leading him.  

“Oh?  So Esteban tries to come off as evil and tough but is actually quite sweet?” She shot back over her shoulder with a wide grin.

She was expecting a reply, but only silence greeted her instead.  Usually he had a witty comeback at the ready, as he had all night.  Had she overstepped her boundaries?  

“You’ll find out one day.” He murmured after a beat, his words laced with an unspoken promise.

“I look forward to it.”

They arrived back at the reception area where they had met, and she discovered far less time had passed than she originally expected.  Raphael had left, she saw, as she peered around the corner, but everyone else was still going strong, surprisingly.

“As do I, (f/n).”  He whispered behind her, kissing her cheek as she assessed what she was walking back into.  “Until next time.”

She turned around, pressing herself against the wall to watch his retreating figure.  “Vincent?” She whispered.

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

He straightened his tie and smiled at her.  “Always, ma chèrie.”

He watched him leave, a heavy sigh leaving her lips before she turned the corner and entered the party again, her mind focused but her heart elsewhere.


End file.
